Is it final?
by scwtmango
Summary: When young Mike stumbles into the world of the very game franchise he hates, he discovers it's much more dangerous than some video game. Will he grow to except the game for what it is? Or will his hate consume him?
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1, is it final? 

"Omigosh omigosh! Omigosh Mike, did you hear? Final Fantasy 12 is coming out! Omigosh I am SO excited!" Mike listened to the continual shouts from his sister, Eve, as he sat down and played some Phantom-Dusty goodness.  
"That's cool. When is it supposed to come out?"  
"Um...not sure. But, I am will SO be there when it comes out! It is the ROXX0RZ!" Mike laughed for a few seconds. He had'nt heard computer talk for a while, and the whole -0XX0RZ thing was funny to him. "That's cool." Mike's mute character got blasted by a fire ball. "Man, It would be so nice to be able to hold a phone and do other things simultaneously like you or my Mom"  
"Yeah, sucks to be you. Oh, my boss is coming in with a baseball bat, I'll talk to you later k?"  
"K. See ya"  
"Bye." Mike clicked the 'talk' button off and re-tried the Phantom Dust level. The computer was so cheap. He laughed again as he imagined images of an enraged older brother throwing a controller into the TV screen. If it had challenge, it got him angry. If it had no challenge, it got him bored. "Shane just isn't made for gaming," Mike said aloud.

Oddly, when he finished Phantom Dust and turned off the XBOX, Mike heard a faint rustling noise behind his dresser. Mike cautiously set down the gargantuan controller and peeked behind his dresser. Crap, he thought, it's that stupid FF7 game my brother bought. He'd automatically blame it on me if anything happened to it. Carefully, Mike reached down the back of his clothe holder with his long, lanky arm. He picked it up. "Phew, not a scratch on it. I wonder how it got down there anyway..." The top lid holding the three disc collection popped open and a demonic, or possibly satanic, deep voice unleashed itself from within.

"What you loathe you shall become!" A black hole appeared within the first disc and started to consume specific objects in the bedroom. Star Ocean, Tales of Symphonia, and many other games Mike so loved were sucked into a black abyss. Mike was about to step on the demon game, only it started to eat his foot. "Come, enjoin with me!" Mike yelled some pleas of help, but all was for naught. Within seconds, his voice was futilely echoed in the regions of a black, endless space. Mike was so shocked and so taken aback, he fainted.

Has it been an hour? A year? A millennium? Mike couldn't be sure. He began to open his eyes to see what laid before him. The space had not vanished, black with hints of light were still encircling his being as far as Mike could tell. But what he could make out were six embodiments of blue flame. Mike, realizing the ability to swim through this abyss, utilized this and began to swim forward. He got closer, nearer, until at last he came upon the six bodies. They all seemed to be sleeping, or unconscious. A message in flames appeared above them. It read: PICK FOUR.

Mike yelled, but he seemed to have lost his voice, or was unable to audibly perceive it. Because he had nothing to do or nowhere else to go, he looked to examine the six embodiments.

The first was a warrior, covered in red armor, red hair, and maybe a red sword. The second was a kung-fu fighter guy, with a headband and a costume for such the occupation. The third was another girl with red hair and a white cloak about her. The fourth was a person in a red cloak with white hair, sort of like the opposite of the third. The fifth was a jawa knockoff with a blue cloak and a witch hat. The sixth was a blue-haired begZ0r with cheap attire to match. How was Mike supposed to pick four?

He went up to the first phantom-esque corpse and touched his sword. The blue flames changed to a glaring red as this was done. Mike confirmed this result and thought to choose another three. He picked the person with blue hair, because blue was one of his favorite colors, the kung-fu guy, because you always need kung-fu, and the girl, for no apparent reason at all. Another message, in seemingly bland white text appeared above him: YOUR PATH IS SET, MAY YOUR ADVENTURE BE PROSPEROUS.

The black abyss seemed to get even blacker as he was pulled into something Mike would never forget. (dun dun DUN!)


	2. The course of Fantasy

Chapter 2

The course of fantasy.

Eve hung up the phone and continued to type export orders. Her somewhat funny coworker got out an elaborate paper doll which looked reminiscent of her boss, Mr. Haris. Seems an awful lot of work to spend so much time on a mediocre paper doll to make one joke, thought Eve, but she listened anyway.

"Hi, I'm boss Haris. I run this place with an iron fist, cheap suits, and REALLY BAD BREATH! I've got the IQ of a fruit bat, and anger issues, RRR!" Her coworker crumpled up the doll and threw it on his desk.

"Totally man, Haris is a complete-" She was cut off when the 'employees only' door was abruptly opened by Mr. Haris himself.

"A complete what?"

Thinking quickly and intelligently, Eve dug in her backpack and found a Twix candy bar. She shoved the bar of caramel crunchy chocolate cookie into her mouth and mumbled some words. "Nnghffm Syulmfy Mughm Fusm."

Mr. Haris looked Eve up and down, and then walked over to her coworker. Thinking UN-originally, he tried to find another sweet, or 'dulce' in Spanish, but came out with a pathetic, futile Mr. GoodBar.

"I don't like employees who talk bad behind my back," said Mr. Haris as he removed a foldable baseball bat behind his back.  
"No sir, please, I beg of you! Noooo-" Crunch.

Mike finally ended his abysmal journey with a bone-crunching UMPH.

"OWWW!" Mike started to take sharp intakes of breath. A green fluttery glow was cast over him by a girl with red hair and a white cloak.

"...?" Mike stared. He was thankful for the healing, but he'd never met a girl who says nothing. Mike took a look around him to see where he was. More blackness everywhere, just like last time.  
"Crap, it's like I'm in some sort of angsty teen's bedroom." He tried to walk around to see if his back now worked properly, only to see his bodily shape take on a more apparitional form. "Hey, what the- help!" The white-cloaked girl simply stared at him with her blankness and gave him the cold shoulder wit her mute properties. The blackness started to fade, until at last he appeared to be in an all-white room. He was in an office chair (sadly without wheels) and looked about him. He was facing a white desk with nothing on it but a speaker phone.

"Hello, Mike." Mike jumped back in fear as the speaker, well, spoke, and banged his head against the wall. "You're so stupid, which is why I have called you here today. Well, if this is day. It might be night, who can tell?"

Wow, he's just so mysterious, thought the MikeZ0R. "I'm not stupid! Where the heck am I, anyway?"

"You, sir, are in the mind of Square Soft." Well, it was big, black, and surprisingly blank, just like he'd imagined it. The Speaker phone paced back and forth across the desk, as if deciding Mike's punishment in front of a court. "Excuse, Mr. Speaker Phone, but what's your name?"

"Names are irrelevant, Mr. Mike. Just call me TB."

"You're so profound. Sir, I mean, 'TB,' could you please tell me how to get out of here?"

"No, that's retarded. The reason I called you here is that you hate Final Fantasy, correct?" Mike nodded his head. 'Mm hmm, and you think you could do better, correct?" Mike vigorously nodded his head. "Mm hmm. So, Mike, I offer a little challenge to you. If I were to... let's just say... Send you to each of the game worlds in this beautiful franchise, do you think you could make them better?" Mike got shaking-baby syndrome. "Mm hmm, I thought so. Well, I'll give you a list of rules as how to go about this then." The speaker phone seemed to regurgitate a slip of paper. Mike caught it in mid-float, and it read as follows:

Thank you for entering the FF sweepstakes! DA rulz are as followz:

1. It cannot be a minor change. Things such as throwing some litter into the trash can will not count.  
2. For each version of the game, you must make that many changes. (For example, Final Fantasy 6 will require 6 changes)  
3. Suicide is not allowed!  
4. If you fail to come up with some positive improvements, you must beat the game to progress.  
5. Failure to comply with these rules and obligations will result in you being the BnZ0rd into the land of stupid jokes. (Popsicle abound)

Thank you for your time!

Mike folded up the paper and put it in his Jean pocket. "We'll be in touch." With that, the speaker phone ate his soul and he was sent in some more blackness to his destiny. 


	3. The first of the worst

Chapter three

The first of the worst

Shane began to watch yet another Final Fantasy commercial.

Many reporters were gathered around the inside of a courtroom. The judge looked at a small child sympathetically while he spoke his piece. "Well, I had just gone to bed late last night because I was watching TV. As always, I heard my parents yelling and arguing at each other. Then, I heard a loud thump. The arguing stopped, and I was afraid. I heard footsteps coming down the hall, so I pretended to be asleep. My dad looked into my room to see if I was asleep, and I was very scared. The next morning, I asked my dad where mommy was. He said she had taken a little vacation. Then, I played FF12." The child held up the Final Fantasy box of which he spoke. The jury stood up and clapped.

Stumble! Mike rubbed his butt.

"Ouch! This place is the suckZ0rs! I've been hurt this way at least-" Mike stopped in mid-sentence as he observed eight beady eyes staring at him motionlessly. "Oh yeah, you guys must be those four people I picked in the Ansem-esque place." He pointed his finger to each one respectively. "White Mage, Thief, Monk, and Warrior. Just like in FF1..." Mike finally grasped the connection. "Oh, now I get it! This IS FF1! What did the speaker phone tell me to do again?" Mike unfolded a piece of paper from his pocket and read the details therein. "Fix one thing, eh? Sure, that'll be easy. I could think of a million for this here piece of crap." A million thoughts buzzed throughout Mike's head: Voice acting, better graphics, personality... I won't continue. Let's just say it was long, much so. Mike observed his surroundings.

Many people crowded the 8-bit streets of this forsaken town, namely people who had some obvious piece of advice, or even dancers who flipped their legs up and down while remaining motionless. Pots crowded around houses for no apparent reason other than to yield their spoils to the common looter. "Awesome!" Mike pulled out a potion. "Woot." Mike realized that his group of mates was still lurching behind him. "Oh yeah, you're supposed to follow me huh? Well, Apparently these pots are full of things. Go take some stuff from them and meet me back when you're finished."

More stares. "Well, do it!" Everlasting stares. "You guys are retarded." Never-ending stares? Mike continued to do everything himself. After a minute or so, Mike had stumbled upon two more potions, a stick, a sword, crack, and some gold. (gil, GP? I dunno.) "Whatever this is, It's gold. Well, I suppose I should take you guys shopping to see if I can make you suck less." And with that, they headed towards some shops like a goth in a Hot Topic.

Ring went the bell as Mike pounded on it with his balled-up 8-bit fist. "Oh yeah, You're right here, all the time, aren't you?"

"Welcome to my magic shop! Is there anything you would want to purchase?" A menu appeared out of nowhere as Mike beheld fire, thunder, and ice.

"Oh yeah, I have to buy my stupid magic spells as opposed to learning them like a smarty-farty? Heh heh, farty."

"Will that be all?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Hey, if you sell these things, why don't you yourself use them? I mean, you do have an unlimited supply, right? Heck, you could learn everything for free if you so desired."

"Welcome to my magic shop! Is there anything you would like to purchase?" The menu climatically made it's entrance once again.

"Gosh you're stupid. I don't even have a black mage in my party. Bye."

"Will that be all?" A slammed door was his reply. Speaking repeated lines over was this humble shopkeeper's fate, he knew that. But this ignorant customer had sparked something within him he had never thought of before. His stock was unlimited. What was to stop him from being a great wizard? What was to withhold him from being the greatest? Thinking quickly, he managed to use his inventory to power him. You see, this shopkeeper had the amazing ability to own every magic shop simultaneously across the world! Or, this world anyway. This humble seller of magic went merrily to every shop he owned and increased his magical prowess little by little...

"You lifeless party members, I'm going to bed. Falling down repeatedly has left me pretty tired, and I'm going to the inn." Mike did this. For an unbelievably cheap price, Mike managed to get a room for five. Mike began to fluff his sprightly pillow as the other seemed to know exactly where they were sleeping.

"Well, whadayya know, I must've slept for 24 hours because this day looks pretty familiar." In reality, he had slept for only ten seconds, but he certainly felt rejuvenated.

"Come on my peeps, I'm gonna teach you all how to talk." Mike stepped out of the inn door and beheld something of catastrophic proportions. The sky grew blacker, with cinematic lightning flashing under it's clouds. Where there were once townspeople lay only dust and some skeletons. Mike guffawed at this unholy sight. "What the heck? What buttmunch made this mess?" Mike cautiously made his way to the center of the town to what else, find out what the problem was. Sure enough, there stood a big white tower right in front of him. "Well, that solves that. I guess you guys are good enough for your first dungeon." With some ambiguous faith, Mike and his four stalkers stepped in.

What appeared to be a tower was actually a single room with some primitive torches on the walls. A big, armor-clad villain gave orders to some goblins beside his throne. He gasped when he saw Mike and his trio (+1) enter in.

"Welcome to my magic shop!" Mike began to feel as if he were on drugs as his vision seemed to blur. He then appeared in a black background with a big black line separating he and his comrades from this titan of terror. There was some cheesy music there too.

"Wait, I know what this is, it's a fight! Wait, poop, I'm unarmed!" With a flash of pixels, Lightning three was cast as it killed the monk. Mike never liked him anyway. "White Mage, revive him!" He did this, although he was still pretty weak for a conscious guy. Fire three was cast on the white mage, and she died too. "Crap, now I can't heal! Warrior, beat him up!" With a futile bonk, the sword did 0 damage. Ice three was cast on the warrior for his insolence. The notorious villain then bonked the monk out of his misery. "Ah, run away!" Mike and the thief kicked their legs up and down while remaining stationary, until at last they escaped out of the screen.

Mike hurriedly ran with the thief to a crumbled rock after the battle. "You suck! That was pathetic!" The thief stared at him with the same blankness Mike had grown to ignore. Now he's just ticked. "How in Hades are we supposed to kill him?" Mike rummaged around his sack for something, anything that could make the situation better. Potions, sword, sticks, money. The lord of war certainly wouldn't take a bribe. Speaking of which, the evil villain had now gone back to managing his little army of goblin servants. "Well, at least he's not paying attention to us." Mike continued his rummaging until at last the gears in his head began to cake free from their rust. Quietly, mike used the sword to pick at the wood of the stick until at last it looked similar to a crude blowgun. Next, he Broke off the tip of the sword with his stick. Finally, He dipped the broken tip into the illegal green powder he had found a while back. He then handed his invention to the thief. "You're assasin-ish, put the arrow in the blow gun and fire when this guy removes his helmet. When he does, aim for his neck, got it?"

The blank stare was only too confirming. Mike peered over the top of the rock to see what he was doing. The Lord of Evil was now yelling at a goblin for his incompetent masculinity. He lifted his helmet and tried to spit on his face. "Thief, now!" The thief blew through the weapon and the aim was dead-on. Wait a second, Mike recognized this guy, he was that dang shopkeeper! Mike gasped when he learned what monster he had created. The keeper of shops at first got a dreamy look on his face, then drunk, then not so sober, then vomiting, then dead. The goblins fled from their minimum wage posts back to their caves.

"Woot! Yesyesyesyes YEEESSSSSSSS!" Mike was about to celebrate before he realized what he had to do. A portal began to open in front of him, and like a magical walkie-talkie, a voice echoed throughout the dimly lit throne room. "Good job, Mike. It seems you have managed to fix something in this close to perfection game."

"Pffft. Whatever. Killing that guy was an improvement, I have to say."

"Not that you idiot, giving the characters the ability to think for themselves, developing a personality. The shopkeeper was an example of that."

"Then why in heck didn't you send me to the next friggin' game then?"

"Well, I wanted you to die."

"Okay, now that's just not fair. I demand some compensation for this."

"Fine, watch the fruit of your labors."

"Huh?" Mike looked around only to notice his blue-haired thief had vanished. "Where'd he go?"

"He went out to pickpocket, like all thieves should. He too has developed a unique personality."

"Aww, that's so sweet. Now gimme some compensation."

"Fine, go through this stupid portal and I'll give it to you."

"Good." Mike stepped through this portal, but not before a tear escaped his eye for his thief, who is still jaywalking to this very day. 


End file.
